


Letters from an Angel (April)

by cardinalwrites



Series: Letters from an Angel [4]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Other, Tumblr Blog, and sometimes they get shippy, castielsentries, it's literally everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 13,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7149431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalwrites/pseuds/cardinalwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel decided to keep a journal of all that he has thought about humanity, the Winchesters, and their daily lives. Takes you through current season 11 and will at times have destiel worthy canon occurrences from Castiel's point of view as well as episode codas depending on their original air dates. This is April, but the series will go through December.</p><p>All posts taken from @castielsentries, which is very active and ongoing so feel free to check it out</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. April 1, 2016

**Author's Note:**

> Some things that may on occasion come up:  
> Castiel's friend is Ana, the one who runs the castielsentries blog.  
> Sometimes entries are affected by whatever was going on during that actual day, therefore it'l be put in that chapter's summary to give you a hint as to what was going on. Episode codas are also given this treatment
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this day: The Mishapocalypse, also wherein the blog was bombarded with questions that can be found under the tag #mishapocalypse

Hello,

         What has happened today to cause another apocalypse?  It seems in every scenery that I traverse today there is some form of prank or declaration concerning lizards for president or the actor that portrays myself in another universe being declared “Overlord.” What ever is going on?

         This particular day used to be Gabriel’s favorite day, though he would not clearly ever state just exactly why April 1 would spark such a sudden amount of energy form him. I would see an elevation in his antics annually on this day, but I would assume his energy would seep into others somehow. They would stage elaborate antics and practical jokes on one another claiming jesters to be the cause of the mischievous pranks. Today, however, seems to have one person being deified into something else entirely.

         I heard of rumors regarding the mythical “Mishapocalypse” from past years, but I had never realized its extent across the social webs until there was nothing but a rather disconcerting mage of the man resembling Jimmy Novak plastered across every possible scenario imaginable. It seems this man has turned psychotic and is now releasing his army of identical clones onto the Earth. Now, that is highly illogical therefore I am nothing less than utterly confused as to the extent of what this “April Fool’s” Event is doing or planning on doing.

         Was it’s original intent to be to frighten the nonbelievers? Or perhaps nothing but a harmless creative way to express one’s love for one particular person? I will say that seeing a picture of myself that I have no recollection of taking is not something I would like to experience again. The last time this occurred Gabriel had convinced me I was in an alternate reality with Sam and Dean not being hunters but rather normal humans with their human, non-celestial being friend. It was all very convincing and thus very confusing; that is, until I saw the picture of the actor and not the angel.

         The more that I ponder this the more I suspect there are other powers at work behind this apocalyptic 24 hour event. Nevertheless, the net aggregate appearance of twitter, tumblr, and other social media avatars has risen exponentially today and shows no sign in stopping for at least 24 hours after today ends.

...

I have just heard movement from outside and various forms of chanting. Perhaps something supernatural is happening in connection to this apocalypse after all...

 

Yours,

Castiel


	2. April 2, 2016

Hello,

The art of painting has been a long-standing form of expression that has spanned generations far beyond recorded history. What amazes me about the form, however, is that it continues to be a form seen today in the modern world, even if the professional definition of studio artist has evolved to fit the current time period. 

Neither Sam, Dean, nor I consider ourselves artists in any form, but there were times in which drawing would be essential to hunting and different cases. There was one case in particular that involved a deceased painter using his blood to mix with the paint so as to give it authenticity. The case only became prominent to us when the ghost’s victims would be found painted into scenes around the local town, many times signifying terrible events that have occurred in their lives.

The brothers had dealt with a similar situation recently in terms of a painter and his muse, but in this particular case the ghost hid itself within its paintings that had been on display at a modern art gallery in the town. In other words, there were 25 priceless artworks that required burning for the ghost to be laid to rest. It became increasingly difficult to reach the artwork when it was under surveillance and on constant watch; the ghost had a safeguard in the form of a building and silent alarms. 

We had elected to go undercover as janitors and security for this case, taking the later hours so that we could accomplish the task without leaving incriminating evidence on the security cameras. It did not come without a cost, however. There were 5 official security men and two women that we had to restrain and knock unconscious. One woman managed to hit Sam in the eye during that part. He was not particularly pleased. 

We managed to gather the paintings, but the paint had begun to boil in our hands, a sign that the ghost would soon appear. We had to work fast with the fire, electing to use the sprinkler system so as to evade any paint that would be thrown our way by the ghost. The entire time in the museum lasted through the night with each painting fighting back as we tried to salt and burn them all. By the end of the entire ordeal we had all been covered in paint in some form, and Dean had a partially painted black arm starting from where the Mark used to be along with a deep, black cut that stretched through this eyes. Sam had an equally as dark pattern of blood around his hands and up through to his face, giving the impression of as if the veins themselves were burning within him. My damage had been on my back after the ghost had torn through the layers of clothing, where I am told there was an imprint of a broken feather pattern traveling down my back. We chose not to talk about what those meanings would mean, but we all knew they were connected to our pasts.

Painting has been a long-standing form of expression, and in this particular case, it only means so much more.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	3. April 3, 2016

Hello,

            When it concerns hunting, photography has been a longstanding way to view certain irregulations that could lead to the possibility of a ghost or supernatural entity being present. In the few months where I was in the bunker earlier this year I came across a set of books that related to the topic of Photography, which is why I bring it up today (I just witnessed a couple taking a picture eon their camera).

            There are various camera models at present, each more powerful than the last and some even capable of recording and taking pictures simultaneously. They can be used to photograph anything or anyone usually, hence the camera’s innate ability to capture at times that which is seemingly uncapturable.

The idea of a camera in and of itself is actually just that, an idea. From my understanding of the invention, the “real” camera is the moving parts inside of a case that we associate with the same name. In essence, the camera is the view finder that has the ability to freeze time indefinitely, though when we think of a camera we only think about its exterior appearance rather than what makes it what it is inside.

There had been a rather delicate and ancient camera in the bunker next to the sets of books regarding photography. It was most likely one of the first cameras ever invented for its time, sporting an incredibly long range and also requiring flash bulbs so as to bring about any form of picture. Sam and Dean are not particularly fond of taking pictures when they are asked; to them it means a final battle, one that they need insurance for in the event that they do not return. I suppose I can understand this, especially given the past with late hunters that they have considered family.

That did not deter me from understanding how the contraption worked, however. I learned about each individual piece and why certain parts of the camera must remain in the dark at all times. Otherwise the filters within them will destroy the film and thus ruin the photographs. It is a very convoluted process, one that I only partially understand and not in an elaborate jargon. Nevertheless, I believe I did succeed in taking some photographs, though they most likely did not turn out well. I’ve little idea on how to develop them, but there is a rather dark room near the room where I found the camera. Perhaps Sam and Dean will help another time, or if there will even be another time...

 

Yours,

Castiel


	4. April 4, 2016

Hello,

         I have discovered iced coffee.

         Did you know that coffee can come in different forms and flavors? There is hazelnut, mocha, mint, peppermint, caramel, and alcohol infused drinks. The list continues and expands endlessly. They all revolve around the same main ingredient, however, and to think that one similarity can spawn so many differences is actually very reflective of life.

         Coffee is an acquired taste, but during the time that I was human I did find it very useful in order to stay awake when I was in areas where it was not safe to sleep. As a worker I learned about the differences between decaf and a double shot, but flavors and the idea of different syrups mixing together to result in a specific taste in coffee is entirely new. I have only ever had a normal cup of coffee, perhaps with some sort of milk substitute whenever Dean or Sam would have any in stock, but today I tried a flavor known as “Cookies and Cream”: Chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon fused together along with milk and whipped cream. It came chilled, which confused me immensely. Is not the nature of coffee but to be hot and warm? Apparently I had been misguided.

         The coffee tasted well, despite the odd cold sensation that I had trouble tasting at the beginning. The waiter staring at my reaction to the drink did not help in the situation, but I ignored the stare and elected to drink the coffee as I saw best. Mixing the drink with the additional whipped cream was entertaining as well, even if it produced a rather unpleasant appearance when the drink was not fully mixed well. It did not damage the taste in the slightest, however, and for that I was grateful. This was a new experience for me, therefore I mistakenly believed that altering the appearance of the whipped cream would somehow make the drink unsavory.

            I have greatly missed out on the entity known as iced coffee. It carries the same effects of normal coffee while carrying additional flavor and sensations that I had not previously had. I doubt Dean would enjoy it, especially with the additional whipped cream, but perhaps Sam would like the idea of a cold beverage that serves the same purpose of keeping one awake when in the night or on a warm day. Certainly colder drinks would aid those that are about to sleep, no? Why was I not made aware of this sooner?

            The waiter continues to stare at me as I type, but I do not mind it. He may not even realize he is being written into existence, but yet his life will carry so much meaning than he realizes. Or at least, that will be the goal if we stop Amara from destroying the world as we know it.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	5. April 5, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These entries are canon compliant through the events of season 11, so this one in particular was about Cas, demons, and Lucifer. A coda of sorts.

Hello,

         Demons do not seem to understand the concept of time management from what I have seen, or rather, they no longer practice the function of it like they did while serving Crowley. We may have our differences, but he knew how to run Hell so that it was somewhat orderly as ironic as that sounds.

         I do not think I am at liberty to think such, however. The ability to manage the flow of time is somewhat agreeable with me, but there are specific cases or bigger issues that take a considerable amount of time, often of which we do not have. From what I understand, humans seem to carry the same quirk as well, no? Only a select few seem to be able to do so repeatedly, but others procrastinate so heavily that they feel as if nothing will truly ever be accomplished well without proper function. Such different ends of the spectrum, and yet they can be interchangeable in one person...

         It would be absurd not to think that I have not been familiar with both sides in one form or another. There are some days in which I was told to wait to accomplish a task and others in which I would do it readily and swiftly. I think of this as only natural, however. We cannot function at over 100% all of the time, therefore I consider it normal that there will be days in which we will feel as if we have completely spent our energy, thus electing to finish a task tomorrow that we could have done today. Is it the best way to logically think? Most certainty not, and I am not trying to mean that putting a task off perpetually is the right thing to do. What I have come to realize from cases, orders, and the experiences that I have had is that there seems to be a meter that depletes gradually with the amount of work put into one situation. If that continues for longer than intended than the meter will dissipate until it is completely empty, resulting in crashing of the person. Sam and Dean have both been victims of this many times, most likely even more so now given that Amara is a constant threat that grows with each passing day. I wonder when the last time they slept was. When was the last time I did that?

         Days and weeks blur together when one is not in control of one’s vessel, but it is through this that I am able to keep some form of track. Little was accomplished today in the scope of finding a way to defeat Amara, but tomorrow spells as if it could be the opposite.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	6. April 6, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coda of 11x18 "Hell's Angel"

Hello,

         I suppose it is now fairly obvious how I have spent these past few months and how little else has occurred in my mind after my saying yes.

         I do get flashes of what is occurring every now and again, but they are few and far between, even less so with passing time. I have recently figured out how to work a radio signal and alter it so that it can hone in on any frequency that will then either channel audio or a channel that I can view. That has been what has taken up my hours whilst I wait for the final battle.

            I heard chatter concerning angels briefly, and then a tremendous shatter that rang throughout the entire bunker of my mind; Amara no doubt. It seems she has remained alive in the time between the angel smiting and present, though how that is possible I am unsure. Frankly, however, I think it best to leave that to Lucifer now. It is no longer my place, unlike how I thought before. Towards the beginning I had been more vigilant, keeping track of Lucifer’s whereabouts to the best of my ability, but in the interim I have seen that there is little more that I can do now.  Thus I have retreated back into my mind, listening and writing here.

            Had it really been Dean that I had seen earlier? He seemed distraught... concerned even. Was that another illusion? Judging if by what Crowley said then I suppose it truly had been him and Sam attempting to communicate after all of this time. But Dean wouldn’t do that given how little has seemed to care in the past about my wellbeing. Illusion or not, it did not come at the right time.

            Lucifer deals with Crowley’s attempts to sway my decision, but they incessantly break the table wear and kitchen appliances that did not need to be broken. They were antiques and now they are gone. Am I an antique? I have been serving long enough to be one I suppose...

            I vaguely heard an incantation, and not soon after Sam’s expulsion incantation had ended did things go back to their somewhat normal state. Lucifer exited soon after, paying no attention to me than he had to. It seemed he had business elsewhere and I was in no rush to figure out just what it was. If it really had been Dean that I had seen and Crowley had been equally as corporeal, then that means Lucifer must be near Sam and Dean again. For that surely I should be paying closer attention, but this radio continues to have a specific kink that will cause it to spin out of place during my listening. I must fix i—

            Pain. Blinding pain. Lucifer found Amara and failed and is now paying the price; I am as well by extension. I cannot think further. I must end here quickly to save whatever power I have left.

I am not sure if I will be able to function well for the next few weeks,

 

Yours,

Castiel


	7. April 7, 2016

Hello,

            I have been watching many older television series as of late, some predating even current 50-year-old story arcs. One in particular that has caught my attention, however, is one that began over a decade ago entitled _Smallville_. Now it is fairly obvious that the era is not current upon seeing the first few seasons of the show (I am currently on season 3), but it has been interesting seeing how one television series has evolved into the present in a quick manner. Small flip and camera-less phones were still very common in 2005, and now 10 years later they are out of service and nearly nonexistent; replaced instead by the invention of the smartphone.

            I know I have spoken on the subject in the past, but the evolution of technology has only seemed to speed up with every passing year in the present. Because of it the future is difficult to predict in terms of how the average family will experience the world around them. There is even talk about such a thing as Virtual reality, and not 10 years ago humans had begun inserting small cameras into phones for personal usage. Now the possibility of world building is greater than ever. Truly it is the age of transition.

            I do wish to talk about this television series however. It seems the main character is otherworldly, set upon the earth at a small age and proceeds to grow up as a human with extraordinary powers. If it weren’t for that fact that he had been raised as a human I would say we have much in common; the need to help, the absent father, the inability to know just when we have done too much or the sadly overabundance in pain inflicted upon the ones we care about due to our mistakes, the list seems to go on. Clark Kent... It will be interesting to see how he becomes the infamous Superman that Dean had mentioned to me in passing.

            All has been quiet here, which has become the usual sense. I do not know if it is good or upsetting, however. I suppose time will tell.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	8. April 8, 2016

Hello,

         There was a child reading on the television screen today, a show I could not recognize. She seemed to be having trouble pronouncing the words correctly, replacing the sound of “t” with a “c” whenever possible. It reminded me of a case that Dean had told me about, one in where Sam and he had to go undercover at what turned out to be one of their old high school establishments. Apparently Dean thought it best to go undercover as a substitute physical education instructor, a task that I am not sure was his most well thought out plan.  Regardless, he did mention that during his time as an actual student there he’d seen Sam help out a few students that had been having problems reading. In just a short amount of time it seemed that Sam had helped rejuvenate the school entirely, even if twenty years later the ghost of one of the children resulted in nearly destroying all of that.

         The story had seemed vaguely familiar to me when he had began telling it, and I’ve no clear idea as to why the memory was so closely connected to watching this child be helped by another whilst her older sister was away on a fraudulent affair. Lately there have been smaller and smaller details that have been causing these memories to return. Another example would be a Mustang that perhaps Dean would have driven instead of the Impala in another universe.

         ... This television has slowly started to become the only amount of noise made here that I can recall in the last 24 hours. I am beginning to wonder what has happened since that brief moment I saw Sam and Dean.  It has been a wonder, all of this, what to do, but I lie in wait content. I am not in physical pain, but there has also not been in any news about Amara other than the brief summaries Lucifer would give to his subordinates or to myself on the rare chances we would interact outside of here. What truly is happening?

        

Yours,

Castiel


	9. April 9, 2016

Hello,

         Is it common knowledge to know that it is nearly impossible for a butterfly to view its wings at any moment in its life? I recently learned of this in a documentary regarding the metamorphosis and changing of state of such captivating creatures that thrive at this particular time of the year. In terms of different types of butterflies the number is rather large, but each one is unique in and of itself with their specific patterns that make up their delicate wings. There’s the royalty of the monarch with its subtle gradations of terracotta and orange, the vibrant yellow of the tiger butterfly that can grow to be remarkably large, even the iridescent of the emperor butterfly or the size of the birdwing, all with the inability to see what many consider their most awe inspiring and beautiful qualities. In that regard, I do not think butterflies are very different from humans perhaps. Would our butterfly forms be any different or similar to our human ones? My vessel ahs long since become my body, therefore would it reflect on butterfly wings? Dean? Sam? Charlie? I would never be able to see my own but others’ I would.

         They will choose to migrate as well, just like birds seeking warmth or humans seeking a vacation, butterflies will go in droves to a sacred ground to fly or breed, but even then their life spans may prevent them from being able to ever reach that place once they begin their journey; all of this beauty, this life, gone in a blink of an eye or a flap of a wing. To think about butterflies and their parallels to humans, or frankly any other species on earth, is not as much of stretch on logic as I thought it would be when the idea first presented itself to me.

         Life as we know it cannot exist without butterflies, much like how it would not function without the need for honeybees. Such small creatures, and yet they hold the fate of the ecosystem. The same applies for humans in the grander scheme of the world, more so because a human life span currently is close to 80 to 90 years. Butterflies generally live for no more than a week, though some can live to as old as a year. They do not seem to be getting nearly enough gratitude and affection shown to them by those that live longer as a result of their work on this earth. Like bees, they are the silent workers, living through life as quickly as possible because they need to. Can the same be said for humans? I have heard the expression that life is short, but is it? I cannot be one to truly answer that.

         It seems I have carried myself far over my original point; therefore I will have to go back. Butterflies do not have the ability to see what others deem as their best qualities; therefore it takes others to help them recognize that. Humans could learn from the nature that surrounds them. I will try to do the same.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	10. April 10, 2016

Hello,

         It is interesting to see how routines revolve around particular days, some more stressful than others solely by sheer nature of name as opposed to the workload of that particular day. The reverse is also true, with weekend days sparking the most leisurely of responses as opposed to the often more stressful Monday that begins the week. With this particular day being a Sunday, I have found that these notions have also come to apply to my routine.

         I have found that developing routines have helped record a sense of time as I wait. There is an early morning show concerning comedians; a documentary of random choice by midmorning usually about a mammal or other animal; cooking and bakery challenge shows midafternoon, often resulting in a failed attempt of cooking from myself; and finally late night epiphanies about the science behind some of this universe’s most perplexing secrets to humans. Those are some of the most intriguing to watch due to my timespan and what humans do not completely understand. Humans have learned much, but they also have much to learn. I suppose I am the same in that regard.

         I have lost track as to how many of these routine days I have experienced already. It has felt like years now, but time flows much differently within the confines of one’s mind than it does in reality. That must be why dreams have always been odd to me.  It is days like today, however, that time is the most prominently felt. Sundays, times of rest, only they become eternal centuries in a world where I do nothing but wait. I cannot complain, however. I chose this, and thus my routine has long since strayed from walking around the bunker on patrol on days where I could not attempt to sleep, long since strayed from aiding Sam and Dean on hunts and being able to help when they would fall. They have been on their own for quite some time now, and perhaps Lucifer was right.

         This is my routine now. I will just have to accept it for as long as it is here.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	11. April 11, 2016

Hello

I experienced sunburn once, and by that I do not mean the actual event of going to the distant star for an intimate viewing. Rather, I am referring to the notion of a body part acquiring too much heat to cause dryness resulting in a burn. It is most commonly observed in a vacation setting or when one goes to a beach of coastal area, but it can also occur during simple walks under no protection from clouds. 

I have unfortunately experienced sunburn before. It had been when I was traversing various states without stopping for more than a few hours. The sting was immeasurable after such a long time exposed, and it was only after Dean had found me that I realized just how bad I apparently looked. I was given a strict regime of cleansing and caring for the skin, which had begun to feel unbearable, as if it was a perpetual pain that would skyrocket upon touch. Sam seemed to understand sunburn more than Dean, but he was rather distant during the time (I now know why due to Gadreel's presence). It was Dean that would help by showing me how to apply ointment to the skin so as to let it breathe. I had little experience with human sensations during the time, therefore his input was vital to my recovery. The water pressure of the bunker only aided in soothing the skin, and after a period of hours I had already begun to feel better, my skin beginning to clear up all around. 

Sunburnt lips were a different matter, however, as I found that saliva only helped to worsen the condition (saliva has enzymes designed to break down food, therefore it only broke down my lips instead of healing them). Dean did not entirely know how to help with that, but he did give me an instrument known as Chapstick. After a brief debate over how to apply it I eventually learned. 

 

Yours,

Castiel


	12. April 12, 2016

Hello,

         I do not understand makeup. Not in the sense of appearance, but rather the application. How does one apply makeup, and so artfully that it can be invisible even to the most attentive of eyes. There is eyeliner, which I have learned from Claire, but apparently there is also blush? Concealer? Contour? Is that not an art term used to draw around the figure? How does it correlate to makeup? These are questions that I have continued to ponder over with every actress and actor that appears on televisions screens. In television’s history, makeup has played a monumental role in bringing out certain colors so that they are noticeable on screen. It seems that it is now a cultural norm in the United States.

         I do not think I have ever worn these “Base combo 1” or “eye shadow,” or at least not intentionally. How are these substances applied exactly? Claire had used a marker to apply a thin, black line across her eyes to make them appear almost catlike, but she had said that even that has many different uses. I have not seen Claire in quite some time, but I wonder if she too has come into the craze of different shades of red to form lipsticks or even the difference between matte and stain. Honestly it is almost as if it is another language, one that I have no memory of ever having encountered prior to the early 20th century.

         Makeup has been around long before it became common use for beautification purpose. It was used as warrior paint, as sun protector, and as sigil markings, but I do not think I have ever seen those that know how to apply makeup in the modern setting.  How long does it take for the average person to apply makeup? Why does it seem so gender biased? And how to prosthetic pieces work and fuse so well to the face or body that it will transform a human into an alien? Makeup is manual animation, even more likely to produce a noticeable error, but yet in the hands of an expert it is an art that only few can master. Claire must be one of them, as she somehow manages to maintain that thin, black line I mentioned earlier even during the most strenuous of circumstances.

         I have never asked Sam or Dean about the notion, as I am unsure if they would know the “hacks to a smoky eye.” ... Why is the form called as such? The eyes do not smoke after application. What caused humans to name it such to begin with?

It seems today I am left with far more questions than answers today, but one day I may find answers.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	13. April 13, 2016

Hello,

Is it common to give a name to an idea so as to conceal its identity to a specific few? A code name, if you will. Texting and text conversation originated from this, but code words are more than commonplace when working with the Winchesters. Dean has told me many stories in the past about the different hand signals and code words Sam and he have developed during their hunts both with their father as well as on their own.

There have been silent queues for vampire nests, werewolves, and even demons that involve blinking twice and pointing at one eyes. If imagine they were vital in situations where neither of them could talk without giving away their position, but they do not seem to have a code word or hand signal for angels besides Dean pointing to himself and then proceeding to draw a circle above his head. He said it dated to a saying he remembered his mother saying often, but he himself rarely gets the chance to use it.

In terms of code words I have heard of a few over the years. While I may not fully understand all of their significance, I have come to see words such as “Funkytown” and “Poughkeepsie,” a word I have no intention of ever attempting to spell again. It is a different language unique to these brothers, which makes me wonder if I unintentionally did the same with any of my brothers and sisters towards the beginning of creation. In looking back I do not believe so, but perhaps the tilting of my head has become a subconscious signal of mine. Dean picked up on it before I had, ether because he thought it was odd of because it was a human trait I must have adapted for myself at some point. Regardless, there must be many more code words, names, and signals that I have yet to learn. Is there one tethered to me in particular? Or do I perhaps have one for my brothers and sisters? It is an interesting theory.

 

Yours, 

Castiel


	14. April 4, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this day: International Moment of Laughter Day

Hello,

         It seems someone has deems today “International Moment of Laughter Day,” which I cannot help but find ironic considering to my current predicament. Regardless, moments of laughter are meant to relief stress and anxiety, but of course they also occur in moments of hilarity; these spontaneous events that will only ever be relevant to the select few that were there. It is almost as if it is this memory that will remain there, dormant until a word is referenced or mentioned that will cause it to rise again. Laughter is almost as if it is a constant reminder that life can be different, but at the same time it is not always seen. Invisible yet Perpetual. It is interesting just how much a moment of laughter can do for a person.

         I do not recall the last time I had a moment of laughter outside of a comedic joke that I understood on a television show. There had been small moments in the past in where I have witnessed something that I deemed amusing, but unfortunately I would usually be the one that would be the “butt of the joke,” as it were. There had been a moment when I had been human where I witnessed a man step on a disposed banana peel while walking from what seemed to have been a coffee shop. After the initial concern had subsided and making sure the man had been okay, I did find the entire ordeal particularly amusing.

         Many moments of laughter have appeared on television as well, therefore I suppose I have inadvertently laughed in some regard within the time that I have been here. I would hope that would be the case at least... It is somewhat difficult to gauge emotions anymore.  There had been one show that had actually been a compilation of “funny videos” meant to induce delight. I watched videos of grown men falling off roofs of houses, trampolines physics gone awry, and even animals that would not look at the mess they are being questioned about. Dean would watch these from time to time; Sam as well. I do remember after a particularly difficult case that resulted in Sam nearly being decapitated I had heard soft laughter from the main room. It had been broth Sam and Dean enjoying computer videos while drinking beer, almost as if they were trying to forget the near calamity that had almost occurred. Dean had said that Laughter is the best medicine once. I only began to realize just how much when I witnessed this.

          If only that were the case now.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	15. April 15, 2016

Hello,

Wind turbines seemed to be the topic of discussion for me today, and they are relatively common in many areas of the world outside of the United States; ironic actually. Nevertheless, there was a time, before the Winchesters, in where I had been tasked with finding Gabriel. It had been before he had been presumed dead, therefore there had still been some form of belief that Gabriel had still been alive, and rumors during the time stated that he had been near a wind farm in Europe.

If you have never seen a wind turbine, I suppose the biggest form of description that I can provide is that they are these gargantuan modern set forms of technology erected with the idea of attempting to touch the sky in mind, garnering energy from that will blow across the plains or mountains areas that is then converted into electricity.

If you ask Dean, however, he would say, “These big popsicle sticks that stick up in the air like giant skinny pyramids.” This had been one of my first clues in realizing that the United States did not have as much “green energy” sources outside of solar panels...

Regardless, I had arrived in this massive wind farm roughly in between Madrid and Barcelona, where more than 250 windmills extended across the entire mountainous area. One of these presumably held Gabriel, but where to start? I had been unsure, and asking humans for help at the time had been forbidden. I knew enough to not underestimate my brother, however, therefore I looked for the tallest windmill that was placed at the highest elevation point.

I thought I would find my brother, there had been many signs telling as much, but I merely found a rather elderly man asking about the difference between candy flavors, saying that a man slightly older than myself (my vessel had been a Spanish priest at the time) had asked not too long ago, leaving nothing but a simple lollipop as a reward for answering. I had thanked the man when I had heard a jarring sound soon after: the sound of metal straining in the wind. It was then that I looked up to find the windmill had hit a small helicopter, which had proceeded to come spiraling down towards the elderly man, who promptly disappeared upon contact.

It had all been a trick, a way to catch me off guard and then proceed to cause my vessel to nearly be decapitated by a toy helicopter, all for my brother’s personal enjoyment. I never did find him, but I knew it had been him that had done it.

In short, do not play with windmills.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	16. April 16, 2016

Hello,

Humans seem to be partially fixated on the notion of time travel, of being able to go into the future to figure out an outcome as well as return to the past too be a lost artifact. I have done it for Sam and Dean; Lucifer as well when I could no longer travel. What astonishes me about the entire notion, however, is that humans already have the ability to move forwards time time: the notion is often referred to as “sleep.”

Sleep, this dormant stasis in which time continues to move, but humans are withdrawn within their minds to rest and recover, images being supplied by dreams in the interim and all concept of temporal movement seemingly nonexistent. We can feel as if we are moving thousands of miles simultaneously or stuck in one loop forever, but the minute we wake up we find that we have lost at least some form of realistic time. In essence, it is the first crack at what humans refer to as time travel, and while it only travels one forward, it is effective in bringing events closer to their occurrence.

This stasis is something that I have pondered greatly over in my present conditions than I had while I had been human. Time is fluid, especially in the mind, but there can be a small link that will connect the reality with the imaginary in the form of lucid dreaming, something I have begun to learn more and more about. Sam had told me ones about being able to control one’s dreams; especially when some became nightmares, but lucid dreaming is no different than the simple recovery state that is sleeping, even if it does not produce the desired effect.

This entire discussion was brought up today due to the ever changing time slots that is understanding the mind of a fallen angel, how it revolves, rewinds, and stays in one moment or place for what feels as if it has been too long. I enjoy the notion of sleep at times, even now, but it does not come the way it did when I was human. Nevertheless, enjoying sleep on the form of losing time is something I have come to embrace rather than worry over. It helps with the waiting effect, waiting until the final battle.

 

Yours, 

Castiel


	17. April 17, 2016

Hello,

I never quite understood the appeal and the aura that draws so many people to Las Vegas. It has been featured in countless television series and movies, but what drives so many individuals to travel from all over the world to copulate and lose themselves in a city that never sleeps? The alcohol no doubt plays a factor, but it is consumed here once the person has arrived. What is the preceding step, the one that humans take before they arrive here that makes them wish to come? It is a blur.

I asked Dean once about the allure that calls so many to here, but he merely chuckled and evaded the question for the most part. Apparently what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. I’d asked Sam, too, but he said he had had rather uncomfortable memories from there. Dean had overheard Sam’s comment and proceeded to play the Bridal March, but neither elaborated further as to why Sam grew incredibly annoyed at the tune.

Which is why I am left with more questions than answers to this place. I have visited a handful of times in the past and I have been able to see it rise and extend beyond its limits, constantly growing and building new entertainment areas unfit for children’s eyes. I understand the city’s motto better because of it, however.

The hotels are another entry entirely, too many to understand and organize because one will connect to another almost seamlessly. It will take some time to see them all. While on the subject, time in terms of day and night is nearly nonexistent here. The entirety of the hotels are roofed wth clouds or night skies, the rooms expansive and yet small. Even in all my time I have still yet to fully understand it, but perhaps a few days in the city might help in my comprehension. Metaphorically speaking.

 

Yours, 

Castiel


	18. April 18, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NAB 2016 was going on in Las Vegas. It's a TV convention for those in the industry. It literally has nothing to do with Cas, but it's why some of these entries are Las Vegas themed.

Hello,

         Part of me wonders what Caesar would say if he were to have ever seen the Palace that bears his name in Las Vegas. He most likely would have attempted to nationalize it, no doubt; also stage events there where humans would fight to the death... perhaps it is best that Caesar never learned about Caesar’s Palace. Gabriel had been known to frequent it from time to time, however, usually playing the part of a statue in the local show ear the main center fountain in the mall area.

         How frustratingly simple it is to get lost in the malls and convention centers of Las Vegas. Sam and Dean may not mention this place in detail, but they never ceased to complain about how easy it is to lose track of the entrance and exit of one hotel. If you continue to walk you will only end up in either the mall district, or simply put another hotel. In this respect it is an architectural nightmare, but on the other hand it takes quite the amount of spatial awareness to be able to connect more than three and four extravagant hotels together that thus does not allow its guests to see the light of day. Sam had once mentioned it was to keep gamblers playing if they did not know what time it was; Dean said it was because designers got lazy.

         Regardless, it is pretty seeing this artificial sky they have created here, changing its lights to fit in with the changing of the hours in the mall areas. Sam and Dean most likely avoid the mall area when they do come to Las Vegas. The prices for these clothing items are astronomically high; how do natives of the city live here?

         I must return to the topic of Caesar’s Palace as a whole, however. As a historically themed hotel it fairs well, showcasing a variety of art and decorum that can be seen throughout the entire space both inside the hotel as well as on the outside bordering the roads and streets. Many of the pieces looked familiar enough for me to place them in history, though there were more modern pieces that confused me in regards to their artistic message. I doubt Dean would care to see them while here, however, which only leads me to believe all he does is gamble or drink while Sam takes a rather more liberal approach, even if neither man refuses to mention more than basic facts to me.

         There is a trade show occurring in Las Vegas at the moment. Perhaps tomorrow I will attend, metaphorically speaking.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	19. April 19, 2016

Hello,

Conventions must be tiring. Be it for fan centered events or trade shows, from the little experience I have had with them they see to suck the life out of a person after a fair number of hours. Not for disrepair, however. It seems that depending on the convention the atmosphere will change, going from excitement to stupor or another emotion depending on what is going on.

Trade shows are no different. Conventions for “professionals” as it were, they seems to carry more onto the side of tutorials. If it weren’t for the constant service of alcohol or smiling faces I could almost mistake it for an unusually large meeting room in Heaven. It is a different atmosphere, of course, mainly in that trade shows seem to be more geared towards buyers and sellers showcasing their latest creations, but it is not something Sam and Dean would go to without some form of prerequisite. There had been a case a few years ago that called for going to a convention from what I have been told, but it did not leave a very favorable impression on them.

In my watching various television series recently I would very much like to attend a fan convention, not a trade show but a fan centered on revolving around television and media. I would not do much there beside browse I don’t think, but it would be a very interesting experience if I ever got the chance to attend one fully. I suspect if I ever would have gone to one, however, I would have gone alone. Judging from the way Sam and Dean have spoken of the matter in the past I doubt they would have joined me, even for television.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	20. April 20, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this day: 420. If you don't know what that is don't sweat it :)

Hello,

There is an inherent amount of people smoking today, though for what specific reason I do not know. I never quite found the entire notion healthy or entertaining. It seems to make some people happy however, but I do not think those that are smoking for recreational use understand at what cost.

Happiness as an emotion is a subject humans have studied countless times, either by understanding why it chooses to affect us the way we do or by attempting to incite it in the form of pheromones or smoking chemical substances. Is that true happiness? Or is it merely a state of being? What is happiness? It seems to be a human emotion, yet why can it at times be so difficult to maintain?

It could be purely psychological, our need to feel happy is driven by our want to feel happy, therefore feeling happy and being happy this separate into two different entities. If we made sure to tell ourselves to be happy than yes, there is a chance the brain will reciprocate and produce the right endorphins. That is happiness, the ability to understand that wanting to feel happy and being happy are linked despite the aforementioned separation. With all that being said, however, I find myself struggling to take my own advice, but not for the reason that would lead to smoking or obtaining a “fake happiness.”

Happiness can be a perpetual state of being, even when we least expect it to be, but even within that realm there are high and low points; it is inevitable. To have high and low points in happiness can very well mean there are other emotions battling to take control, but why can’t it be as simple as telling ourselves to be happy for it to be true? I do not think my Father decreed humans’ state of mind to work that way, therefore why does it?

I may be straying away from my original thought to all of this, which was the reason I fail to understand the recreational use of substances on this particular day. The things humans do to forget… Perhaps that is their coping mechanism. Dean uses alcohol after all. Sam at one point had demon blood to cope. Perhaps television is mine…

I am thinking to hard about this.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	21. April 21, 2016

Hello,

Amnesia, or the state of forgetting an event or timespan, is something that I have found to be a lot more common than I had originally anticipated, especially in this specific present time as opposed to the past. Humans would begin to record their history on parchment so as to not forget, and yet there are still moments that are forever lost to scripture, only present in the minds of those that were there to witness it. If it were not for Chuck Shurley’s books, for example, the world would never know Sam and Dean’s names, even if their last name is only every synonymous with the rifle. Yes, the written word thus is one of the sole tools in combatting the forgetful brain. It is one of the reasons I started writing to begin with, after all.

But even with everything being recorded to the best of our abilities and all the time necessary to do so; there are still small details left only for those that truly experienced the moment to remember, if they do at all. Chuck wrote about the bolt others extensively. It was his divine duty after all, but even he did not write down the moments in between the calamities that plagued them, the strife that they went through both individually and together. Yes, there are the bigger events, such as Dean’s time in Hell and Sam’s addiction to demon blood, but what about when Dean would signal to his brother in hunts, little queues in a language known only to them? What about when Sam would inevitably slumber amidst an array of open lore books during research, at which point either Dean or Bobby would give him some form of comforter so that he is not cold? And what of the battles, hunts, and losses of people that we were never able to save? Or when those people would at times find us again in another time only to recognize and remember us? Not all of those have been immortalized in the Winchester Gospels.

Where does that leave us then? In this cycle of forgotten thoughts, or is it time to start writing as much as we can down knowing full well that it will be impossible to convey every action, every emotion, every feeling wholeheartedly and completely? I admit many of these entries have left me with far more questions than answers, but I believe that is the point. It’s meant to remind me of what could have been had events transpired differently while also allowing for me to remember moments as if they had just occurred. Writing, as it is, can speak volumes, but it is also important to know that not every adventure has the glory of seeing the light of day. These adventure I have found were the ones that involved the three of is on more than one occasion, but perhaps there is another writer out there writing our stories, prophet or not. Yes, that is a nice thought.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	22. April 22, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this day, Earth Day

Hello,

I used to enjoy this day very much, a day in where the majority of the world rises to attempt to preserve it rather than destroy it with excess pollution and other factors. It’s humbly puzzling to see just how one day can mobilize millions to put recycling and other events as a priority when the following day it will not be in the same regard to many of those millions. It’s a shame as well, but for at least today Earth Day does play an important role.

I only understand the specific reason to have an Earth Day after having studied and put inquiries into the matter. I had asked Sam why there was a particular day dedicated to the Earth when the majority of humans have still yet to travel into space and why there were not identical days for other planets in the universe when he told me the exact reason as to why this particular day existed. It is a nice gesture for humanity to do this for Earth, though I would only wished that the majority would continue attempting to preserve the Earth for more than a period of 24 hours. No matter.

A few years ago after I had asked Sam the true intentions behind today I had asked to plant a tree as I was told that was a customary tradition to do on this day. Dean had complained that forests surrounded us; therefore there had been no point in doing so. I had understood him, but I still wished to do my part after having spent so much time on Earth. I wanted to repay somehow, therefore even if there were still trees around I wished to plant something, even if it was not a tree due to Dean not wishing to aid me.

I elected to visit an arboretum instead, as they were giving away small flowerbeds in order to celebrate the day. I received a fair number of them so as to equate the amount of a small tree before returning back to the bunker to make Dean see the beauty behind having a day like Earth Day. Sam had been speaking to Charlie therefore he was unavailable to help.

As I foresaw, Dean was more than unwilling to help as it would interrupt his burger enjoyment, but a few attempts to sway his attention later and he did consent to helping properly plant the beds (I was not of much use in this, but Dean seemed to know what to do fairly well. Within about two hours we had planted a fair number of flowerbeds, though at that point the flowers were mysteries to me in terms of what types they were. He may not admit it, but planting the flowers seemed to calm him somehow. Perhaps he had just never done it before like myself, but we were both covered in sand and dirt once we had finished, a fair enough more on Dean due to him having tripped and fallen into two of the beds. It was actually very comical.

I never did find out due to circumstances in the following years and Dean setting them aflame during his time with the Mark, but I do hope they turned out well at some point. Maybe they have flourished again in my absence, maybe they remained where Dean had burned them, but it is more likely that I may never know.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	23. April 23, 2016

Hello,

         Creativity can be captured so effortlessly by some, a resource available to all and yet still only used by so few. Painting, drawing, music, television, literature; the list continues to span so many different forms of media that it does not end in a short span. Creativity is a cultivated form, however, therefore it is not available only to a select few. From the many years that I have spent observing mankind before the present day I have seen countless artists, filmmakers, script keepers, and more practiced and produce magnificent works of art over millennia, their children and their children’s descendants continuing to find their own niches in life and growing them to produce timeless pieces.

         It only seems that with every passing era art forms have continued to progress, many oftentimes expressions something that cannot be put into words about that time. The world wars had paintings in homage to fallen cities, the Impressionists had colors to tell their stories, every ear changing in time and yet never straying from the outburst of creativity, even during times in which totalitarian leaders suppressed it.

         Sam enjoyed art, but Dean had no care for it beyond looking at them fro more than 7 seconds. That does not mean the Winchesters lack creativity, however. The same branch that has art also has construction, ingenuity, and quick thinking. Their creativity lies in their minds. This is something I believe I share with them as well, though most likely not in the same level. There had been a time in where Sam had told me about his knowledge of art helping them on a case, on how they later met back up with the woman that had been there at the beginning, Sarah Blake. Creativity helped them there to see that the hair of a children’s doll was the key to solving the case, and still less than a decade later that has allowed for them to continue saving people up to now. That is why part of me believes that if Lucifer cannot stop Amara than they will find a way to do so after it ends.

         The ability to think on the spot and developing an idea for years are no different; they use the same process in the brain accessible to all, which is why I am saddened that not many humans choose to exercise and use that ability repeatedly. That is during this era, however. Perhaps the future will hold another potential in store, and hopefully I will be there to see it.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	24. April 24, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this day: It's Baby's birthday! (According to Chuck from Swan Song)

Hello,

            Dean is most likely celebrating today, for it is the Impala’s birthday. It turns 49, though considering how many times it has been destroyed, smashed, driven, reassembled, and re-dismantled I believe that car has generations underneath her hood. Dean has attempted to teach me specific ways when it comes with repairing and fixing cars whenever he would work on his affectionately named “Baby,” but he has always taken an extra step in maintaining the car’s look, keeping details that would be insignificant to even the most cynical of classic car buyers, such as the details his brother and he would inscribe around the entire interior of the car, even in areas no longer accessible without revealing something else.

            In many ways the Impala is very much a Winchester in her own right (Dean says she is the equivalent of the sister that has always protected him, given that most cars carry female pronouns), constantly fighting, running, sleeping, and functioning alongside us in battle, even after nearly 50 years of usage. Yes, that car is truly an animal for all that it has suffered.

            Dean has a routine of his that he only enact annually on this day for his car, or rather, I have only seen him carry this out on this day for the past 8 years.  He would always wake up first, oftentimes passing me on his way to the garage or outside of the motel depending on where we would be, and then he would set to work on cleaning out every nook and cranny, from the trunk to the hood, cleaning every pipe, fiber, seat, and button before delicately replacing the remaining items back in their respective compartments. He’d do this almost religiously, not stopping to eat until he was completely finished with his task, but that does not mean he would be finished for the day.

            Dean would go on to change the oil, refill the tires, scrub the interior, clean the engine, and those are simply the ones that I can write down from memory without having to stop to ask Dean what each task meant for the car. I learned very quickly that asking Dean if he needed help with all of the things he wanted to do would end sourly, especially when I filled the gas tank with the wrong fuel substance by mistake when the Impala had turned 46. Dean refused to let me ride in the car for a few weeks after that, but he did show me how to get rid of oil stains on shirts and pants, albeit somewhat reluctantly. From then on, however, I would sit and watch him work, because otherwise Dean would go without eating for a day if Sam or I did not bring him food of some sort, which is very troubling considering Dean never stops eating.

            It would be unwise to think that he is not doing that right now, especially because he will work on his car anyway to calm himself down usually; this I have noticed especially after he had recovered enough from becoming a demon that he could control the Mark not too long ago.

            He truly does take car of his car, which has gotten him and his brother out of danger far longer than any other being or creature, myself included. Today is Baby’s birthday, and I can only assume she is spending it well in the comfort of the one person that cares about her the most.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	25. April 25, 2016

Hello,

         College Finals seem to be on the horizon for many university students, this last week either starting them or marking the final days leading up to examinations that will test all that they have learned since their enrollment in the class. Long ago Sam told me about the entire process, how every university changes its requirements for a finale examination depending on the class. He particularly disliked the theology classes, not because he was not good at them, rather they taught the wrong material to a topic he knew extensively about, therefore he could not answer the truth without receiving a low mark.

         I have never taken a final examination of such rigor, be it university level or otherwise, but I suppose the equivalent could possibly be when we were training or gearing up for battle in Heaven before I met the Winchesters. There were days in which we were tasked to simply record human interactions, but there were other days that was weapons training, how to withhold our power so as to only maim humans if necessary as opposed to obliteration. Angels are powerful beings, but that does not mean power is not absolutely understood upon receiving it to begin with. Before the war that nearly destroyed Heaven by pitting angels against one another, there was no need to know just how to defend ourselves in the form of external combat, mainly because it took great power and specific weapons to kill an angel, which is why I did not completely understand self defense completely upon becoming human.

         It is a vague memory, long since forgotten due to time, but I do have some remnants of staring at a target, focusing my power so that a small amount were to emerge as opposed to my total strength, effectively for example burning a mark into the target instead of setting it aflame completely. This was of course, not something I mastered at first. There were many training object singed or reduced to ashes when I first was learning, but I am very grateful that I did master it after some generations. It allowed for me to handle other matters far more delicately than I ever would have been able to otherwise, such as rescuing Dean from Hell or Sam from the cage. Does that mean I would pass this theoretical final examination? In that regard I would assume so, but from a psychological form perhaps that is where I would struggle. Angels were meant to be warriors, soldiers that carry identical mindsets. Did I ever fall under that category completely?

         I due wonder what sort of mark I would receive.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	26. April 26, 2016

Hello,

         From my understanding yoga is meant to be a soothing notion, correct? It aids in reducing anxiety and stress levels while also opening up the body and enable it to become more limber and flexible, and yet even with all of this there are questionably named positions such as “cobra” and downward dog?” Is there a meaning behind their naming conventions that would spark this reaction upon seeing a person practice yoga?

         I attempted some of the positions in the past, such as “Warrior” and “Chair,” but I found “Child’s Pose” to be interesting as it engaged my shoulder blades. It was also somewhat troubling due to the feeling of loss of what was once connected to those blades, but yoga is not meant to incite those feelings, therefore I focused on other areas of the body to help.

         Sam taught Yoga once, apparently because he had converted the habit into an every day lifestyle from his time in college, but a few years ago he had attempted to help me in terms of positioning and how to not strain my then more fragile body. Dean had elected to avoid us, but I did catch him looking from another room and vaguely testing out the different movements after he had lost his balance and fallen straight into the room we had been working in. It had been during the “Tree” pose when Sam and I heard a thud and quickly realized that Dean had knocked himself into the door very loudly.

         I have found Yoga to be quite soothing after the few times that I have done it, albeit a bit difficult for me at the beginning as I was not as flexible or comfortable in certain positions, but its therapeutic actions far outweigh any detriment it may have if done correctly, which also includes witnessing Dean begrudgingly join Sam and me after having cramped up his legs from doing a position wrong that caused him to fall once again, this time on top of me. After that he moved to the other side of the room and continued following Sam’s guidance, but not before watching me lose my balance and flipping myself backwards after my legs knocked off a lamp in the room. Yes, yoga may be soothing, but not when your foot registers the physical pain of a shattered light bulb.

         Even with all of that, however, it still outweighs its detriments; both Sam and Dean seemed more at ease for the next couple of days after that.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	27. April 27, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ties in with 11x19 "The Chitters"

Hello,

         I do not think I have ever seen a living cicada in my entire existence. These creatures are only eve alive for specific time frames, crying out in the night yet ever camouflaged amongst the tree bark and foliage. How do they blend so well with the world? Moreover, there have been various spiritual elements tied with cicadas and Native American traditions. Countless tales told across generations in oral stories, and yet as of yet there seems to have been an occurrence so strong that would have sparked a hunter to its call from what I have seen. I do not know what made me think of this today of all days, but I wonder if Sam and Dean, in their history prior to our having met, ever encountered a case that involved bugs similar to cicadas and their myths.

         There was a time in where I would actively try to find the source of the noise that was the cicada, not out of curiosity rather I noticed it would constantly wake up either Sam or Dean after a particularly loud battle of noise. I never could find them all, or rather, I could never find just one.

         Regardless, their voices seem to be quite common, especially in more rural areas with many trees, including Colorado as well as many parts of the South. Depending on the time of the year, however, their sounds and mating calls can be quite jarring. There was just a constant count of chattering, rattling, and overall unnatural noise that, had if not been that we were near forests, would have been very unsettling, almost as if there was a creature lurking.

         As for my current situation, I do not think much has changed. There is still an inherit aura of absence, but here in a place where I can control and I am left to my own devices for the most part, watching documentaries on nature and other television shows. Something has happened certainly, but as of right now this place is still warm. It is safe.

 

Yours,

Castiel


	28. April 28, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay for random stories that can be seen as destiel if you squint

Hello,

            Have I ever talked about a hunt that involved facing our greatest fears? It was not very long ago; I believe it was when had been searching for Abaddon or just soon after. A creature had been attempting to steal the souls of children in a town near Norfolk, Virginia. They had suddenly collapsed, driven into their minds by the very beings we were hunting. When we had arrived and learned that a similar event had occurred not too long ago we began to see in trend in the growing age numbers, starting with children and then slowly beginning to affect adults. It only became inevitable that at some point the creature would attack one of us, the only ones that were actively attempting to seek it out.

            Sam had been the first to be attacked, but it had been Dean that went into the coma. We had neared a small apartment complex not too far from the local hotel when we heard children screaming and rattling from one of the higher floors. Up until that point I had been led to believe that there had only been one creature, therefore when three suddenly advanced upon Sam it took all of our power to make sure he remained okay. It was then that we realized Dean had not been responding to our calls.

            He was hospitalized soon after along with the other patients, leaving Sam and me to realize the nightmares were the key to the entire scenario. We had to infiltrate the most recent victim’s mind to find the creature, which meant Dean’s mind was where the creature currently was. We had found a spell that had the potential to work, but it require a blood relative to mediate the connection, therefore I had to go in while Sam oversaw our bodies. I suspect had Dean been awake he would have protested deeply at the idea of someone else in his brain, especially myself, an angel. But the situation called for extreme measures.

            I think it best to not relate that which I saw in his brain for privacy’s sake, but when Dean awoke after I had found the creature in his childhood house and disposed of it, it took a fair amount of time for him to look me in the eye again. I only arrived in time to witness the end of his nightmare, but I can only imagine the torture his brain must have gone through at the beginning. I once vowed to make sure that he would never relive that again, but after the following year and now with Amara I am not sure I will be able to prevent his nightmares from coming to fruition anymore. Granted, my nightmare was partially seen by him as well during that time, and it was very disturbing how similar they were in content, but that is not something I wish to relive in print.

            Time will only tell us if whether or not those scenes will come to fruition, but I have an odd feeling that we will find out within a month’s time...

 

Yours,

Castiel


	29. April 29, 2016

Hello,

         Expressions can be either meaningful or utterly confusing, can they not? Actors seem to understand the notion expertly, for their experiences in television shows and how they conceal their character’s true intentions mirror what Sam or Dean would do when they choose to keep secrets from one another very closely. Is their true emotion behind certain expressions, however, or is it more of a general reaction to an event? Surely this is different for all, which only leads to the reason why actors portraying such drastic characters have the talent and ability to tap into that emotion without having to feel those emotions themselves so as to produce grief, sadness, or concealment so well.

         I have tried to recreate these expressions on my own, the simple “smile,” “laugh,” “joy,” but I can never quite get them to be as genuine as I am lead to believe. Perhaps my emotions are playing into my lack of talent in this area unlike the actors in television series, or perhaps I cannot fathom seeing myself in those states of being anymore after the past few months. Expressions are much more difficult than anticipated.

         Sam and Dean understand the action well, now that I think about it more. They have mirrored the states of hidden agendas not dissimilar to myself in the past when the events had been true, but likewise they have also fooled me into believing that which they want is what makes them produce expressions that respond to it, expressions that I took to be truth rather than cleverly concealed lies to protect me or others. One such case was when we had been at the brothel, Dean and me, and Dean thought it best that I understand human interaction on an intimate level. I remembered noting his uncomfortable demeanor when Chastity visited our table, despite his best efforts to push me into a room with her. I remember thinking why Dean was keeping something, but at that point I had also been told that I may overanalyze situations (ironically enough, by Dean), therefore I let it drop. When I left the room, however, after an understandably upset Chastity, Dean’s expression was a mixture of laughter and perhaps relief, though relief from what I do not know.

         Regardless, my point in this is that expressions can be honed by those that wish to do so, with Sam and Dean being experts in the field for many times. Despite that realization, however, there are cracks in their demeanor, when situations can get too uncomfortable for them to continue to hide what they are truly feeling. Those moments are few and far between, but I have witnessed some. The question remains have they witnessed my attempts at the same?

 

Yours,

Castiel


	30. April 30, 2016

Hello,

            The walls of a room are only as decorated as those that live in it, or at least, that is what it feels like. Is a home not a home without signs of life after all? Sitting here in the kitchen of the bunker I have begin to realize how often I have begun to disregard some of the smaller details that make a home feel as if it has life. Granted, with calling a fortress of knowledge that up until a few years ago had been left to be reclaimed by the earth a home I suppose I inadvertently answered my previous question. Nevertheless, this version of the bunker does not fail to grasp the massive scope, but it has recently begun to leave me with reservations about the illusion of it all. Within the confines of my own mind I can imagine and create at will, but that does not mean memories begun to fade with time.

            Memories of a room as it were can be whole or minute depending on the amount of time spent apart from the place or its inhabitants, therefore it is very easy to forget the ground coffee filled cups in the sinks or the used dishes and pots in the drying area if they are no longer used by those that make the meals to begin with. The kitchen and surrounding rooms here, therefore, have only ever had evidence of my presence, not of the Winchesters, Charlie, or even Kevin. An eternal palace with only one being, the other having disappeared for a few weeks now. Does that mean that I regret my decision? Or perhaps does that mean that I am simply regretting those I left behind? I cannot give a definitive answer in one form or another, but those used coffee cups have been washed clean through numerous times, the pans having been burned far beyond recognition long ago, replaced by time and misused by memory.

            Even the cracks in the decorum have begun to fade, either the wrinkles becoming whole again or the design of the wallpaper disappearing completely. Was is green? Yellow brick? Or perhaps Dean changed it by now because he despised the color to begin with? For the library, Sam must have found new lore books we failed to catalogue, maybe new spell books better left unopened for fear of a repeat presentation of what happened the last time we opened a book that had been partially sealed. In terms of outward appearance it is likely the bunker has not been modified, but these smaller details could very well be life altering. A home that has been lived in far longer than I have been there, and lived in now by one less being... It is strange seeing how hanging up a poster can affect the ambiance of a closet or above the cabinet sink, how it adds character to a room becoming dull. Maybe I will begin to make a home here, in my mind, free from prejudice or misgivings, awaiting the final battle should it have come or if it has yet to arrive.

            I wonder if my dwellings in the bunker have been touched, either by Sam trying to clean or by Dean looking for a clue. Or maybe they have been closed off, another door never to be reopened; A room no longer for the living. Where does that leave me?

 

Yours,

Castiel

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by at the [@castielsentries](http://www.castielsentries.tumblr.com) blog to say hi :)


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